


ten minutes ten years

by rooted



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Fluff, M/M, OsaAkaWeek, OsaAkaWeek2020, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rooted/pseuds/rooted
Summary: The firsts, and the forever, of Miya Osamu and Akaashi Keiji.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 14
Kudos: 119
Collections: Osaaka Week 2020





	ten minutes ten years

**Author's Note:**

> hello, my osaaka babies! i galaxy brained one page of interaction and combined three official prompts to write this fic:  
> firsts, “the room, the building, etc.” by Salma Deera, and my favorite, "Wish" by W.S. Merwin. 
> 
> [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irZ8r2Vlb6U&list=PLAnVPHvIR5ob4RRVIgVPzR17W09Pb4oDO)
> 
> i chose solemn love songs because i feel like they fit both osamu & akaashi’s (emotional) temperature. and as always, i fell deeper in love with these characters as i tried to write about and for them, so i really hope you enjoy reading this as much i did writing it. <3

_**(after Salma Deera)** _

The Schweiden Adlers and MSBY Black Jackals match day was a fateful day for many. A time capsule nudged in a cold week of November, for old teammates to reunite, teachers and coaches to see the fruits of their labor, players to revisit where they had started and complete their circle, and for everyone else who had brushed shoulders with the Monster Generation in their younger years to see how everything and nothing changed. Miya Osamu was there to kill two birds with one stone: watch his twin play, and expand the reach of his onigiri shop by setting up a booth at the stadium. So was Akaashi Keiji, who attended the match with his mangaka, Udai Tenma, to interview his former captain, Bokuto Kotaro, and see his former teammates and rivals in and outside the court. It was not a short trip, but nostalgia was always worth it. 

The match had already begun when Keiji and Tenma arrived, but Keiji refused to watch the match on an empty stomach, knowing the vigor and dedication of everyone in the court, knowing it will spark his long lost but not forgotten love for the sport, and his hunger, too. Keiji had set his eyes on one destination first: Onigiri Miya stall.

“The match already began!” Tenma pointed to the court impatiently.

“I’m trying to buy some Onigiri Miya’s onigiri, what if they’re all sold out…” Keiji already started walking up to the booth, the match was not going anywhere.

Tenma shrugged, then walked in opposite direction to go to their seats, not wanting to miss any more second of the match.

Keiji lucked out, the person in front him had just finished their transaction, and he stepped right in front of the cashier.

_Miya Osamu._

_Fukurodani setter._

_He’s prettier than I remembered_ , both men unknowingly shared a thought.

_I have to make a conversation, right? We were familiar with each other. I can’t just order some onigiri without acknowledging that we knew each other, that would be more awkward._

“Your rice balls are really delicious. Do you still not have a Tokyo branch?” Keiji asked. 

_Oh no_ , _will he think that I was flirting? Will he think that my asking of a Tokyo branch is just a subtle way to say that I want to be able to see him more often? Or will he think that I’m trying to get a discount by complimenting his product? Why am I even nervous about ordering some food?_

“Thank you, not yet, but we're thinking about it.” Osamu smiled politely. He thought nothing of it. “What would you like to have today?” 

“I’ll have one of everything and two iced teas, please.”

“Hungry today, aren’t we?” Osamu’s charming grin almost made Keiji blush.

“Well, your onigiri is really good, and I come with a friend…”

Osamu chuckled and waved his hand, signaling that he was just joking. Keiji regretted answering the question so earnestly. 

On the court, Atsumu’s first serve of the day, a strikingly powerful one, landed out.

“Too excited. Goony.” Osamu couldn’t help but make a blunt comment.

Atsumu glared back from the court.

 _Did he hear it? No way. Twins are terrifying…_ Keiji thought to himself, impressed by the twins’ bond.

Osamu turned his attention back to Keiji. “The more I watch him play, the happier I am that I chose to watch from the sidelines.” 

Akaashi adjusted his glasses. “Mm-hm. I don’t miss the pressure and the nerves from playing big games like this at all.”

“What can you do if your heart's not in it, right?” Osamu knew Keiji would understand, from one former volleyball player to another.

Keiji turned his head to find Osamu already smiling at him. Was it a pang of hunger or butterflies he felt inside his stomach? He smiled back. “Exactly.” 

Volleyball was a fundamental part of both Keiji and Osamu growing up. The emotional distance they feel towards the sport now does not cancel out the fact that volleyball was a pillar of the foundations of their persons and brought them to who they are today. There is no denying that they will always feel tied to it, through long-time friends slash former teammates, or in the form of fuzzy memories of their youth.

Both men then focused back on the court. Sakusa received Romero’s serve and brought it up to Atsumu, who then set it for Hinata to spike. For the first time that day, Hinata used the super quick attack he was famous for. A long-waited homecoming. Another point for MSBY Black Jackals. 

“Their first strike is always lethal…” Keiji mumbled.

Osamu caught what Keiji noticed and couldn't help but be amused too. “The heck is that...”

They realized what had just happened on the court. They were both there for the beginning of the making of the star that is Hinata Shoyo. And as always, Hinata’s spirit and hunger for victory was infectious. Keiji was torn between wanting to watch the match closer and stay longer at the booth. At Osamu’s booth. He had no reason to stay once Osamu handed him all his orders. So maybe he had to make up a reason to see him again.

“Hey, if you ever need a friend to help you around Tokyo, hit me up.” Keiji put his change into his wallet and took out a name card to give to Osamu.

Osamu took a quick look at the card before looking back at Keiji and nodded. “I will definitely take you up on that.” Another one of his charming grins.

“Thank you, Miya-san.” Keiji pointed to his onigiri. “See you around.”

“Thanks, Akaashi-san. Enjoy the match.” Osamu thanked him back and watched Keiji turn around and walk away.

Keiji found Tenma and offered him the onigiri. Keiji took one onigiri himself and started devouring it. His eyes were on the court, but the rest of his senses were someplace else. The combination of rice, seaweed, salted salmon, and toasted sesame seeds in his mouth only reminded Keiji of the one person making it, preparing it, and handing it to him. The thundering screams and claps for another score couldn’t drown the dizzying buzz in Keiji’s head. The crowd, the players, and the stadium disappeared. Osamu felt like the only thing there was.

Keiji was brought down back to earth by a light vibration from his phone. 

_Unknown Number_

_Does my brother look more embarrassing up close?_

* * *

If the accidental reunion at the now legendary match brought them to each other, both Osamu and Keiji happily kept each other close. Keiji asked for easy and simple recipes to make at home, between his busy schedule and punishing deadlines, and Osamu needed Keiji’s help to navigate Tokyo, in search for a place for the new shop, somewhere convenient and friendly. Keiji knows Osamu didn’t exactly _need_ his help, that this was always a thinly veiled excuse to spend time together that Keiji plays along with, since they usually surveyed a place for less than 30 minutes and spent the rest of the day having a long lunch, a walk to the park or a movie at Keiji’s, moved to the evening with a slow dinner, and only parting when one could no longer hide their yawn. 

Keiji has found comfort in Osamu's soft edges and quiet shades, in blocking out the world and being content with the smaller one he discovers within him, in understanding a person so easy it feels like an instinct you were born with. They are naturally tuned to a similar frequency, making conversations easy. Both him and Osamu appreciate quietness—Keiji is used to it, being the only child of busy parents; Osamu never had enough of it, being Atsumu's twin—and are as blunt as they are reserved. Neither seemed to need to do much to make the other understand, Keiji thinks, relying on caring gestures that are constant and things that are felt without being said. Osamu’s visits are more frequent now that the Tokyo shop was close to opening, but they still check up on each other when apart, gentle reminders of _Don't stay up too late_ and _Don't forget to eat_ and the occasional impatient _Are you coming_ _here again soon?_ , and they have started calling each other day before Keiji even realized it. The kind of gradual change that settled invisibly you only notice it by its absence.

This Saturday, Osamu wants to have it slow and mellow and spend the whole day at Keiji’s apartment, which Keiji agrees to unthinkingly. They stop by the supermarket to buy groceries after checking the progress of the shop. Osamu offers to cook for them, and lets Keiji pick the after-dinner snacks that they will share. 

Keiji unlocks his apartment door and lets Osamu, holding two big grocery bags in each hand, in. 

“Make yourself at home.” Keiji tells Osamu as he takes off his shoes and turns the lights on.

“Thanks, this is only my 115th time here.” Osamu follows Keiji. 

Keiji rolls his eyes, but that does not stop the smile nudging one side of his lips. The formalities between them were long gone, now there is only ease and good humor. 

Osamu walks into Keiji’s kitchen and starts unpacking the groceries on the table. Onion, scallions, sliced beef, eggs, pickled red ginger on one side; miso, kabu, and aburaage on another. This will be Osamu’s first time cooking properly for Keiji, save for the onigiri. The meal Osamu is about to make is neither flashy or fancy. Osamu knows that Keiji does not need to be impressed, and neither does he. Comfort is the axis that their relationship spins around.

“Can I borrow your apron?” Osamu points to a black apron hanging next to the fridge.

“Yes, please help yourself to anything you need.” Keiji grabs the apron and hands it to Osamu.

“Thanks. Might use some of your spices too.” 

“Do you want to change into something more comfortable for cooking?” Keiji takes a good look at Osamu’s build, wrapped in a black tight-fit shirt and khaki pants. “Though I’m not sure if I have anything that will fit you...” He absent-mindedly starts rubbing Osamu’s chest. 

“You like what you see?” Osamu’s tease snaps Keiji out of his head and back to where he is.

Keiji’s eyes widen in horror. He pulls his hand and starts running to his room without a word.

Osamu chuckles and continues preparing the meal. He is surprised by the effect he has on Keiji, but aware that he feels drawn to Keiji in the same way. Osamu is just slightly better in concealing it. Their mutual attraction feels like the natural course of things. Osamu is steadier in his feelings, realizing somewhere along the texts and the visits and the walks that their paths have merged, that they have settled into each other’s lives. And tonight, Osamu will have Keiji realize that too.

Keiji walks back into the kitchen after changing, trying to pretend that he did not just rub his guest’s chest out of absolutely nowhere. Osamu has almost finished measuring and chopping the ingredients for their dinner. Keiji stands next to him and watches Osamu do his thing. 

“What are we having tonight?” Keiji is visibly trying to make his voice as neutral as it can be.

“Gyudon and miso soup.” Osamu takes the last ingredient, a peeled onion, and starts chopping it.

“Yum.” Keiji rubs his hands together in appreciation.

Osamu smiles at him then continues his work. 

“Hey, listen. The Tokyo branch is opening in a few weeks, so I’m going to move here indefinitely to get the shop up and running. I already got a place near the shop.”

“What?” Keiji lands a punch on Osamu’s left arm. “How come you didn’t tell me sooner? This is huge, Samu.”

“It’s a surprise!” Osamu grins his words. “And the trips are getting exhausting. I’ll be moving next week, and you, Akaashi Keiji, will be my first guest.”

Keiji considers for a second. “Are you okay with leaving Hyogo and your parents and your friends?” Keiji knows Osamu is never impulsive, but uprooting your life to move somewhere else is never an easy decision.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Osamu replies matter-of-factly. He has finished chopping and starts cleaning his hands with a dry towel.

Keiji just blinks at Osamu. “I just thought leaving home would be a bigger deal to you.”

“Not really.” 

“Why?”

Osamu turns to Keiji and gently taps his nose with his finger. “Because I’ve found another home here.”

Keiji grabs a fistful of Osamu’s apron and pulls him in for a kiss. There’s a sharp inhale of surprise from Osamu, who quickly gathers himself and puts his arms around Keiji’s back as he returns the kiss. Their first time is cautious and sure, gentle and exacting. Sweet and feral. And of course it would happen here and now. It could only happen here and now. In the middle of Keiji’s kitchen, under the white light, after countless non-date dates and the familiarity is settled. In this tender, private world they have slowly built.

Keiji lets go first, and softly curls his fingers around Osamu’s hair. 

“You really should have told me this before dinner because I have absolutely no appetite for food now.” Keiji’s eyes glisten in gunmetal blue.

“Yeah?” Osamu takes off Keiji’s glasses and puts them on the kitchen table. “What do you want then?”

Keiji smirks as he starts untying Osamu’s apron.

* * *

“Hey, I’m going to leave early. Can you close up the shop later?” Osamu calls his employee, Noguchi, as he hangs up his apron and takes off his hat.

“Sure, no problem. Is your brother in town?”

“No. Date night.”

“Oh-ho? Who’s the lucky person?” Noguchi raises his eyebrows.

“I’m sure you’ve seen him around. Glasses, black hair, loves cardigans and sweaters, really pretty.”

“Ah, him.” Noguchi nods as his memory clicks. He starts cleaning up the counter. “Didn’t realize you two were together.”

“Why?” Osamu is genuinely curious. He feels like the frequency of Keiji’s visits alone can tell anyone remotely perceptive that Keiji is not there for the food only.

“You just looked like friends.” Noguchi shrugs. 

Osamu decides not to chase it, but finds himself unable to stop thinking about what Noguchi said on his way to Keiji’s. Osamu is never the type to get overly insecure in general—having Atsumu as a twin is a great exercise in the matter—but being with Keiji unlocks so many feelings Osamu didn’t know he had. Most of them are good, kind ones, until this one. This strange, new uneasiness. It has been three months since Osamu moved to Tokyo and their relationship moved to the next level, yet nothing has changed much since then. They don’t have cutesy nicknames, don’t do public displays of affection, and neither refer to the other as a boyfriend. Their togetherness is more of a given than a claim.

 _We are in a relationship, right? These past few months can’t not mean something._ _Or is he still seeing someone else? He has had a life here before I came, and I never really asked about his dating history. Or what if he’s…_ Osamu shakes his head to cut off his own thoughts. He feels childish for even thinking about this, for letting this trouble him. But isn’t the point of a relationship is to be able to talk even the smallest things out?

Once he arrives at Keiji’s apartment, Osamu is determined to make one thing clear. He rings the bell and waits. His heart beats faster as he hears Keiji’s steps towards the door.

“Hey, welcome home.” Keiji coos as Osamu steps in. Osamu returns Keiji’s greeting with a smile, but Keiji notices his stiffness. _Did something happen at work? With Atsumu? Oh no, with Kita?_

“Are you o—”

“Are you... embarrassed to be with me?” Osamu gulps, swallowing his own anxiety. He’s not sure if he’s more afraid of the weight of what just came out of his mouth, or of not getting the reaction he expected.

Keiji’s eyes widen, confused. Worried. “What? What do you mean?”

Osamu scratches the top of his head. “You have never posted a picture with me. Never talked about me. We don’t hold hands in public.” He sits on the sofa, his eyes looking down. “Some of my friends didn’t even realize that we’re together before I told them.”

Keiji is still processing Osamu’s words, holding his response.

Osamu looks at Keiji. “It feels like you’re... ashamed. Like you don’t want anyone to know about us.” Osamu sighs the last word and leans his back to the sofa. 

Keiji walks up and sits next to Osamu. Osamu looks away. Keiji can feel the tension Osamu’s holding in his body. He also can tell that Osamu is more sad than angry, but is still confused about how to navigate this conversation.

“You know that’s not true. You know I love being with you...”

“No, I do not know that because it doesn't show, Keiji.” Osamu sounds exasperated.

“I thought you liked keeping things private.” 

“Well, yeah, private, but this feels like a _secret_.”

Keiji opens his mouth, but Osamu continues before he could get anything out.

“I wasn’t asking for huge, flashy gestures. Just a simple recognition that this relationship exists outside of this room.”

“Is… Is this really an official relationship to you?” Keiji softly asks.

“Are you kidding me?” Osamu chuckles, his eyes soften and the heaviness slowly leaves his shoulders. “I moved here because even if I’m far from home, I know you would be here, and that’s enough to keep me here. I’ve been staying over almost every day for the last three months. Half of your drawers are practically mine. I’ve been spending more time with you than anyone else.”

Keiji fully blushes at this turn of the tables. Osamu puts one hand on Keiji’s thigh, lightly squeezing it. 

“Are you unsure of me, then?” The worry comes back in Osamu’s voice.

Keiji shakes his head. It’s his turn to be vulnerable.

“No. God, no. We just never really talked about it and I didn’t want to make a public declaration, you know, before we are both sure of where we stand. I was waiting for you to do it first, actually.”

“Wait, you were?” Now Osamu is the one confused.

“Of course I was. I was thinking about it too, but I didn’t want to demand of you what you’re not ready to give. What if _you_ didn’t think this was a relationship? How could I be sure that you were mine to claim? What if I—”

Osamu cuts Keiji off with an eager kiss. His arm wraps around Keiji’s waist, and he puts the other arm on Keiji’s back, pulling him closer. Keiji returns the kiss with the same need, cupping Osamu’s cheek with one hand while the other rests on Osamu’s chest. 

“I’m all yours,” Osamu whispers against Keiji’s lips as they part for a breather. There is no desperation now, only surrender.

Osamu pulls away to look Keiji in the eyes as the other man twists his arms behind Osamu’s neck. This is the moment he’s been waiting for a long time. “I love you.”

“I love you so much.” Keiji tightens his wrap around Osamu’s neck as they melt into each other again. Neither wants to let go of the other. Not yet. Not ever.

* * *

Suna hisses at Atsumu, “Keep yourself together, you drama queen.”

“Leave me alone,” Atsumu hisses back between his sobs. “It’s my brother’s wedding!!!”

“Exactly. So why are you the one having a breakdown?” Suna flicks Atsumu’s forehead. 

Osamu and Kita laugh as Atsumu flinches in pain.

Sakusa clings his left arm around Atsumu and rubs his back. “Come on. Let’s get you some air and water.”

“Suna is being mean to me, Omi-kun.” Atsumu wipes his tears with an already wet handkerchief. Sakusa’s.

“You kinda deserved it.” Sakusa replies in jest.

“But Samu cried at our wedding too.” He grunts and pouts, and is obviously lying.

“I absolutely did not.”

“No.” Kita chimes in.

“Nobody cried but you.” Suna reminds him.

Sakusa uses his free hand to help Atsumu stand. “Looks like we’re calling it a night, then.” 

Osamu stands to hug Atsumu goodbye. 

“I love you, Samu. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. So happy. I love you. I love Keiji. Love you guys.” Atsumu’s vocabulary fails him.

“I love you, and thank you, now please go back to your room.”

Atsumu nods and returns to Sakusa’s arms. Everyone says goodbye as they walk away.

“He did a good job holding back the waterworks during the ceremony and the vows, actually. So now that the party has calmed down and most people have left, he could no longer keep it in, I guess.” Suna explains.

“Don’t forget the alcohol.” Aran points to the empty glasses and bottles on the round table in front of them.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Osamu smiles, forever endeared by Atsumu’s antics. His attention turns to Keiji who is walking towards him, along with Bokuto, Kenma, and Kuroo, who stole them for a quick business talk at the other side of the venue. 

“I saw Atsumu and Sakusa leaving, are they okay?” Keiji takes a seat next to Osamu.

“Yeah, just Tsumu being Tsumu.” Osamu takes Keiji’s hand in his, fingers intertwined. Keiji gives him an understanding smile.

They happily sigh and take a look around. Both wanted a small wedding and this, right here, is exactly how they imagined it to be: a sweet summer evening, a beautiful garden, an exchange of vows, everyone they love, and a future promised.

“We’ll leave you to your evening too, then.” Kita stands up, and the rest of the guests follow.

“What??? I just sat down!” Bokuto protests, but obeys anyway.

“Congratulations once again, Osamu, Akaashi. This was a beautiful night.” Kita holds out his hand to shake Osamu’s, but Osamu pulls him in for a hug instead.

“Your rice brought us here, in a way. So thank you. And thank you so much for being here.”

Kita chuckles. “My pleasure. I wish you two the best.” 

The rest of the guests take their turn to thank and congratulate the newlyweds. Kenma appreciated the small scale of the wedding, Bokuto especially enjoyed the food, and Kuroo and Aran just loved seeing familiar faces from the volleyball circuit. After everyone leaves, the couple walk inside and to the elevator. Spent, but full of joy. Osamu presses the button to their room.

“How are you feeling?” Osamu holds Keiji close. 

Keiji spreads his hand out, looking at his wedding band. “Unreal.”

“Can’t believe we’re finally here.” He kisses the top of Keiji’s head. 

They both feel like things have fallen into place, that this is exactly where they are meant to be. The natural course of things, once again. Getting married to each other doesn’t feel like taking a risk, but fulfilling a destiny. They hold on to each other in silence, the love exists without needing words to carry their weight. 

The elevator dings open. 

“Shall we?” Osamu offers Keiji his elbow to hold on to. Keiji clings to Osamu’s arm and leans into his shoulder. “Welcome to Hotel Miya, the latest venture from Onigiri Miya group,” Osamu parodies their hotel receptionist.

Keiji chuckles, willing to play the game. “Tell me all about it.”

“We have fine dining, spas, business center, gym, swimming pool… Uh, what else.. A garden and a bar.”

Keiji hums in appreciation.

“Would you be interested in our honeymoon suite? It has a jacuzzi and a private deck to watch the stars.” Osamu swipes the hotel card to unlock their room.

“I would like that very much.”

Osamu opens the door for Keiji. “And how long will you be staying with Hotel Miya, Sir?”

Keiji gazes into Osamu’s eyes before stepping in. “For the rest of my life.”

* * *

**(after W.S. Merwin)**

Keiji was the one who chose Nomura Yoshitaro’s _Zero Focus_ for their movie night, but he is also the one falling asleep an hour into the film. He had not slept from the night before, chasing a deadline and spending the rest of the day anxious after submitting the work. His head is resting on Osamu’s left arm, his breathing slow and steady. Osamu tries to take off his glasses, gently as to not wake him.

“Mmm, I’m awake.” Keiji catches Osamu’s hand and brings it down to hold it, clearly struggling to open his eyes. He closes them again. He sighs. “I’m sorry I keep ruining our routine.”

“I think _this_ is the routine. A film, popcorn, you falling asleep halfway, me carrying you to the bedroom.”

Keiji says sorry once again.

“Don’t be sorry for needing to rest. You haven’t slept all day. If anything _I’m_ sorry for making you do this.”

“No, I want to do this too. I just hate how much my work takes out of me.” Keiji yawns and shakes himself awake. “Can we go to sleep though?”

“Of course.” Osamu caresses Keiji’s hair.

“Kitchen first. I need some water. I can still feel the popcorn in my throat.”

Osamu takes the empty popcorn bowl and follows Keiji to the kitchen.

“I think I’ll sleep in tomorrow.”

“You kind of have to.”

Keiji gives him a weak smile.

“What do you want to eat tomorrow? Let me make it for you.”

“Tenzaru soba would be nice.”

“You got it.”

Osamu washes the bowl as Keiji drinks some water. They secretly love these seemingly mundane routines so much. Keiji reading the paper and ignoring the coaster and drinking the tea with three sugars and teabag out; Osamu trying a new dish soap and trying to remember what he dreamed of last night as the sunrise flickers behind Keiji. Osamu heading out to work as Keiji finishing his work, sharing breakfast before one starts their day and the other finishes theirs. Their forever is stored in Keiji’s spilled ink and erased sentences, in Osamu’s chopping mark and handwritten recipes. Keiji falling asleep at 4 am with a pen in hand and Osamu covering him with a blanket. Osamu coming home late after work to Keiji’s homemade dinner. A reliable constant, a bubble that doesn’t burst, a love shaped like home. 

Keiji walks to the sink to wash his empty glass. Osamu stands behind him, sprinkling small kisses on the back of his neck. Keiji turns around as soon as he finishes washing the glass, and goes in for a kiss. Now this one doesn’t feel like a routine. Never felt like one, and never will. Each time still feels like the first time—precious and urgent, like the first breath after your face reaches the water’s surface.

“Let’s go to bed.” Keiji whispers against Osamu’s lips and starts pulling Osamu by the hand.

“Okay, lead the way.” 

Osamu turns off the lights and follows Keiji to their room. 

  
  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> yes, Zero Focus is one of my favorite films and i thought, why not insert it hehe. comments or kudos are highly appreciated, but above all, thank you so much for reading! :)


End file.
